When I get a chance to take a review copy of something that Small Beer Press puts out, I generally jump on the opportunity. Eos originally published Kelley Eskridge‘s Solitaire about 2002. It made the final ballot for the Nebula Award. It didn’t stay in print either, which is a shame. Small Beer seems to agree with that sentiment, and published this edition.

On starting the book, it seemed almost a science fiction take on the concept in Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children. Instead of people born on the cusp of Indian independence, Hopes are people born on the cusp of official world government. Now, in this future the world government has actually been going on for quite some time. Rather than taking over in one fell swoop, this government has come into being much like the European Community has. But they’ve picked a day, and each country designates one person born at exactly midnight on that day to be their Hope for the new government. It’s just the kind of symbolic crap that governments do, and that most everyone ignores.

Ren Jackal Segura is the Hope of Ko. Ko is a corporate city-state, the only one of that kind that has been granted rights as sub-government of the new world government. And as a symbol of a corporation rather than a former nation-state, she’s a super project manager rather than an artist or community organizer or similar kinds of things the other governments directed their Hopes to be.

What happens is that terrorists in China cause an elevator holding 200 people to disengage, falling and killing all its occupants. Ren Segura is blamed, even though the elevator included most of her social group of friends. To maintain their relationship with China, Ko throws Segura under the bus. She’s hastily forced into a plea deal that spares Segura’s parents from being implicated. Segura’s sentence is 40 years, but Ko then pushes her into an experimental program where she’ll spend 8 years in solitary confinement instead. It’s experimental because the confinement is all virtual. Ten months of actual time, slowed down virtually in a computer simulated room just big enough to hold a bed and some floor space. But no doors and no view and no other people for all of that simulated 8 years.

Why simulate it when it can be done for real? Because Ko wants commercialize the technology and prisoners are good test subjects. Why Ren Segura in particular? That I could never figure out and it’s one of a number of logical questions I never got. Other than a couple of these but that doesn’t exactly make sense moments, I really enjoyed the book. Being a sometimes project manager myself, I’m happy to see one get a key place in a novel. A good project manager makes the difference between getting shit done, and not getting shit done. (OK, I was totally hoping for something more profound to come out at the end of that sentence, but this is why I blog and don’t write books.)

One fairly interesting thing is that Ms. Eskridge doesn’t skimp on describing the period that Ren Segura spends in solitary confinement. Solitaire does not elide a really important yet generally boring to the participant experience. And it’s actually interesting. Of course, me writing about it won’t be interesting. I don’t have that kind of skill. Again with why I blog instead of write novels.

But by far the most intriguing part of Solitaire is the final section where Ren Segura tries to make a life as an ex-con with P.T.S.D. exiled to the fomer United States. This section, in addition to taking on the plight of parolees, also tackles the macabre fascination about high profile criminals. They simultaneously have a hard time making a living but also get treated as minor celebrities. Kind of like authors. Of course, Segura’s skill as a project manager works out well for her. She can’t get a job as a project manager, but it does mean she’s resourceful under fire.

One point seemed out of place and confused me. Another character even pointed it out later. Despite being an extremely capable person, Ren Segura allows herself to be railroaded into an absolutely awful plea deal when any competent lawyer could have beaten the charges. Segura goes from take no prisoners to cowering victim. Though that can happen to people at times, I really felt like I was missing some context that would make sense of it in this case.

I’ve seen this before in other novels and it always gets me. I’m a capable person. And I’ve broken down under stress before. When my grandfather had a heart attack last year, I lost it for about 4 or 5 minutes as soon as the medical staff got there and I wasn’t needed and hell even just writing about it causes me to relive it in ways I just wish I didn’t have to. Hugging my knees crying on the floor and nurses offering to sedate me. Five minutes of that and I was not better, but I pulled myself together to accompany him to the E.R. There’s a danger in generalizing my personal experience, but I do think smart capable people generally can compartmentalize these reactions so that they can continue to be capable when they need to. And I don’t run across stories that portray that as much as I do extended breakdowns that significantly harm their characters lives. Then again, it is pretty conceited to ask for extra context when a character’s experience doesn’t match my own.

Having just read Ms. Eskridge’s partner Nicola Griffith‘s book Slow River a couple of months ago, the two novels have a very similar vibe, though I can’t articulate exactly how. There’s the obvious parallel that both feature high powered capable women who get thrashed in a near future world and afterward have to live in precarious legal circumstances to ultimately reclaim their lives. The pacing perhaps. Maybe that it’s just so rarely that I read novels where real actual female characters populate the novel (as opposed to characters from the Female Character Flowchart), and both of their books get it right. Both have an ensemble of supporting female characters that are not caricatures. Maybe it’s that they both wrote really good important but clearly secondary characters. Maybe I’m just feeling a Seattle vibe from both. The two books are very much not copies of each other, though. Nevertheless, I think if you like the writing of one, you’ll probably like the other. I did.

Small Beer Press sent me a review copy through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers program.